Love Death Unfurl

“And so, every building we have walked through begins to walk through other buildings.”
—Colum McCann, from his essay “An Imagined Elsewhere: The City of Cities” accompanying Matteo Pericoli’s World Unfurled

As far as she knows, he is the first
to go. Others may have
exited too—she can’t monitor
all egresses, all trap doors

lovers walk on, all the hot air
balloons that crash
into lagoons and straits.
Better to travel on foot

with skyway vision in January,
bridge perspective come spring.
That he has missed two seasons
already, will never feel the first

blast of warm euphoria
in Minnesota again—this is not
a spinster’s regret.

On the Beam

I can imagine Matteo Pericoli out there
beneath the Brooklyn Bridge counting
trusses and cables and stays. I can

see the world go blue against white
detailing and tiny capital
letters that march arrogantly into

the empty.
Never could keep them

so straight and clean and strong.
My architecture doesn’t lay out
pretty. Still, if I were a character

in a novel, this is
where it would really begin.